“Hello? Is anyone there?” I attempted to cry out as I found myself engulfed in complete, total, darkness. Unfortunately, my voice was completely nonexistent, even opening my mouth took a great deal of effort. My body felt numb, weak, and more than a little damp as I tried to shift myself in an aim to see if there was more than just darkness. Sadly, my efforts proved in vain, as even the slightest movement proved challenging. In short, I was wet, warm, in total darkness, and supremely weak. Not the first time I’ve been in such a situation, but those previous times had been in pleasant company. Here, I was alone and confused.

‘Just where the hell am I?’ I questioned in my mind as I wracked my brain searching for answers. Even the mere act of thinking caused my head to pound. But as they say in the army, no pain no gain. Doing my best to ignore the increasing strain of my mind I began with the basics.

Name? Dylan Harvey. Occupation? Mall Security Guard. Last thing I can remember? Driving home at night after a late shift, looking down to check my phone’s messages, sending a reply to one of them, bright lights hurtling towards me and then…nothing. Didn’t take a genius to draw a conclusion from that memory. I just hoped that text message was important. ‘So…this is death huh?’ I pondered to myself. I certainly don’t feel dead. ‘How is death supposed to feel anyway? Maybe I’m just mostly dead and currently recovering? God I hope so. I don’t want to be dead. Being dead would suck! Unless I’m now a zombie. Always wanted to be the one to kick off a zombie apocalypse.’ Had I the strength, I would have grinned.

Pleasant delusions aside, for now I’ll just assume I’m mostly dead and currently recovering. That seems to be the most logical choice, as I don’t believe I would be capable of complex thought if I were dead. Cause I’d be dead. And have a severe hankering for brains and flesh. So I’m mostly dead, restrained in some sort of dark, warm, wet place, and incredibly weak. Obviously what happened was that I was in a car accident, driven to some high class hospital, and put inside one of those healing liquid tanks like they have in Starship Troopers or Star Wars.

Not that we actually had that kind of technology. If I could have summoned the strength to sigh at myself, I would have.

The throbbing of my head had steadily increased as my mind raced to the point where any attempts at complex thought sent a stab of pain directly into my brain. To summarize all of my thoughts as simply as possible, I had no idea what the hell happened after the crash and not a clue of where I was. I was alive, that’s all that mattered at the moment. For now, the best I could do was close my eyes and get some rest. Hopefully I’d get my answers soon.

——

I don’t know how long I had slept, but it wasn’t long enough. When I awoke I felt just as weak as I had before, but at least the pain in my head had subsided. Oh, and the darkness I was in had begun to shift and move which had knocked me from my restful slumber. Concentrating as best as I could manage, the rhythm of how the darkness moved felt familiar. As the darkness moved, so too did I in a pattern that made me think of footsteps. Every shift that my surroundings made were regular and measured, akin to walking. Which freaked me the hell out.

My mind raced at the prospect of the void I found myself in moving. Alas, I could come to no logical conclusions. But I could certainly think up some wild ones, which I had done. My least favorite of the bunch was thinking I was cocooned by some massive spider thing that was currently carrying me to its lair to feed to it’s babies. An overactive imagination is both a blessing and a curse. Future feast or not, my best bet would simply to let sleeping dogs lie and let the answers come to me in time. Exhausted from my brainstorming session, I eagerly went back to sleep.

——

I never truly realized how time passes slowly in total darkness. Unbearably slowly if I’m completely honest. Half of the time I don’t know if I’m actually awake or simply dreaming. In fact, I couldn’t even begin to think how much time had passed since I first came to this place. Days? Weeks? Months? Years? Some days, at least I think they have been days, I have had trouble recalling my name. Very worrying. But I remain sane in this emptiness so that’s a plus in my book. After I wake I send myself into a mantra to remind myself of who I am and why I am here. Wherever here is that is. Sadly, my recovery proceeds slowly as I only feel slightly stronger than when I first awoke in my personal void.

Sometimes, if I concentrate really hard, I feel as if I can hear very faint voices from far away. Not the brightest of prospects for my mentality, but at this point I’d settle for being able to talk to an aspect of my consciousness over being alone. But the strangest part of my predicament isn’t the occasional muted voices that may or may not be my mind slowly slipping into madness. No, the fact that I don’t go hungry is quite more pressing. By this point I was sure I’d have gone hungry days ago. But I don’t. And that concerns me.

———

Captain’s log, day unknown. I find myself attempting to move by any means necessary in order to escape from this hellish void prison I call home. Though my body is weak and my movements sluggish, I am able to perform some variants of kung-fu I had once seen from a movie I remember seeing a lifetime ago. At least, I think I remember seeing it. My heart says that I have, but my mind is unsure. I’ve begun to distrust what my mind tells me. None of my situation makes sense and is causing my once rational mind to break down. Though I do my best to remain calm under my present duress, I well and truly believe that if rescue does not come soon, none may remember the name Dieland Harvard. Not even myself. Signing off.

——

I can’t remember. Who am I? My memories say I am Dayman Hergan…but thats wrong! I know thats not my name! Something, somewhere deep down inside me knows thats not my name. But no matter how many times I try to think of who I am, it always comes out wrong. When I try to remember who I am, it hurts inside that I cant. I try again to remember despite knowing that it won’t help. But what frightens me more than forgetting my name is that the void I am in seems to be shrinking. I can now touch the boundary to this expanse with my leg. Just barely. I swear I could have heard excited murmurs when I did. Or perhaps that was simply the madness making me think I heard them.

At this point, I don’t care. I just want to get out of here.

Dayman…no…thats not it.

Dihand…no…thats not it.

Doland…no…thats not it either…

——

Dylan! My name is Dylan! I rocked myself back and forth in delight as I felt relief rush through me. I had given up so many days ago trying to remember. It was a hopeless endeavor. Yet as soon as I awoke I felt a tug at the tip of my tongue. Hours had passed as I tried out variants of the name dieland before stumbling upon Dylan, and the moment I did the memories came rushing back. My face hurt from grinning, yet I didn’t care. My name is Dylan Harvey!

Unfortunately, my exuberance was quickly pushed to the wayside by bloodcurdling screaming. The first voice I had truly heard since my imprisonment and it had to be screaming. That was a great sign! Before I could move myself, the void I was contained within began to shift and pull.

‘What the hell!’ I cried out in my mind as I felt myself being sucked downward in small motions. With no small effort, I began to push myself to get a better view of what was happening. What I saw left me speechless. Not that far away was a small amount of light and a lot of yelling. And I was being sucked towards it. Freedom!

With every push towards the light, I did my best to help myself along. My joy soared as I neared the expanding light. Yet some part of me felt very uncomfortable about this whole situation. Some strange feeling of nostalgia was pounding the forefront of my mind, yelling ‘I know whats happening! Listen to me!’ The closer the light, the more that feeling welled up inside of me. And then it hit me as I heard the latest round of ungodly screaming. I was being born.

All of my efforts to move towards the light stopped in an instant while my brain shut down in an attempt to stop itself from short-circuiting. As I lay there in my new mother’s canal, my brain successfully restarted and realization suddenly struck me.

‘Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.’ Everything that had happened to me since my drive home suddenly made sense under this new light. I died in that car crash and my soul was sent on it’s way towards my current body. My body was weak and my head hurt from thinking so hard because it was still developing, not because I was still injured. I don’t know why I still had all my memories from my life before however. Perhaps my soul had reached it’s zenith and could resist entropy? Granted, I had almost forgotten myself back there in the darkness. The more I think about it, the more it seems to be that I beat entropy by accident.

An urgent yell ripped me from my thoughts. Right, being born, gotta get on that. Once more, I helped ease my way towards my inevitable resurgence. ‘Forgive me mother.’ I begged silently as I closed my eyes before making the big breach. Cool air flowed upon my bald head as I felt myself slip out of my mother’s embrace and into the waiting arms of another.

“Kor’unsk nask Ungrush.” A gruff, elderly voice murmured in an alien language from directly overhead. Rough, wrinkled skin began to poke and prod over my newly born body. Now I’m no doctor, but I’m pretty sure this was considered malpractice. One does not simply poke and prod a newborn child as far as I’m aware. “Garo shok-ti.” The voice spoke assuringly after having thoroughly examined my small frame.

“Gabo dun Wyld choko da.” A rough, pleased voice spoke from the side. Unceremoniously, I felt myself plucked from the arms of my current caretaker. “Koso da wotek.” Slowly, I opened my eyes so as to acclimate them to the light, only for my heart to stop at the sight before me. A large mouth curled into a grin filled with sharp yellow teeth. A pair fangs jutted from his lower jaw that reached just above his upper lip. Deep red eyes burned into my own. Dark green skin covered the man staring at me. Down from his chin hung a short beard braided with small leather strips and decorated with small bones. Three braided strands of hair were spaced evenly between baldness atop his head. The first word to come to my mind was ‘Orc’.

“Hah! Shon bul ga’dresh! Rohlk gra bekku da!” The man…Orc…and theoretically, my father, excitedly exclaimed as he held me up in the air with his heavily muscled arms. From my new position, I could see him from head to toe. The word I’d best use to describe him would be ‘ripped’. Dude was a muscle monster wearing animal skins for a shirt and pants.

“Koloch, tagrek shokar.” Came a very tired voice that brokered no argument. The Orc nodded happily as he moved to obey my mother. As we moved, I glanced around quickly, eager to process my surroundings. We were in some sort of hut-like dwelling made of animal skins sloppily stitched together draped over a wooden frame. Various bones, skulls, carvings, and other assorted knick-knacks decorated the dwelling. Light poured inside from a pair of open flaps located on opposing sides of the abode.

I, once a human of superior upbringing and education, was the child of technologically-challenged savages. Joy of joys. And judging by my skin tone of a bright green, I was one of them. I’m sure being an educated savage will go along swimmingly. I’d just have to act like a big dumb brute as long as I lived. Maybe I’ll hit my head on a few rocks on purpose to help.

Ceremoniously, the Orc handed me over to my “mother”. I use that word loosely, because the word mother makes me normally think of a calm, caring, demure woman. Not some glaring, grinning, fanged, muscle monster who looked like she could win in a wrestling match against the male who had held me. My mother growled contentedly as she rocked me lightly in her well-developed arms. I desperately hoped that not all women looked like this. Please let my mother be the exception. But if I knew Orcs, there was no hope for me.

“Dabba, goshone ta kolukk?” The male asked my mother as she stared into my eyes.

“Kog.”

“Hrmph.” The male snorted and rolled his beard between his fingers. “Mograk?”

“Kog!” My mother growled which made the man smile.

“Kotek.” He responded. My mother eyed the man silently before smiling.

“Kotek.” Her eyes moved to my own. “Da shon Kotek.”

‘No, my name is Dylan’ I argued in my mind.

Generating Status

‘What the fuck?’ I stared at the box floating in front of my vision. Just as quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared. Leaving me to wonder just how much of my mind had gone in that dark abyss. And then it happened.

Name: Kotek Jir'iroc Race: Orc Class: Villager Title: N/A Level: 0 Experience: 0/10 Health: 12/12 Mana: 8/8 Stamina: 11/11 Unspent Points: 0 Strength: 1 Vitality: 1 Dexterity: 1 Agility: 1 Intelligence: 1 Wisdom: 1 Perception: 1 Luck: 1 Abilities N/A Traits: Orcish Might: Confers a 20% bonus to Strength and Vitality Musclehead: Confers a 20% penalty to Intelligence and Wisdom

‘Is this a fucking game?’ I despaired in my mind as I looked at what was, apparently, my status screen. An honest to god graphical representation of my current status as an Orc baby. I didn’t know whether to laugh joyfully at my predicament, and fully embrace the madness floating before me, or to cry at whoever was in control of this completely shafting my old name for my new one.

In the end, I did as all babies do. I pissed myself.